


Affairs of the heart

by WastingYourGum



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5442710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WastingYourGum/pseuds/WastingYourGum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade is about to lose his lunch... (not that way, fortunately).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affairs of the heart

**Author's Note:**

> For the [12 days of Sherstrade](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/12dayssherstrade) on Tumblr.

Sherlock swept through the division and barged into Greg's office as if he owned the place.

This was such a common occurrence that Greg didn't even flinch when his door slammed against the wall.

Having his barely started steak and cheese sandwich unceremoniously snatched from his hands and hurled into the wastebasket was a whole _new_ level of rude however, even for Sherlock.

"I was eating that!" Greg protested.

"And who knows what irreparable harm it was doing you?" Sherlock retorted. He pulled a carrier bag out of one of his voluminous pockets and took from it a low-fat chicken salad and some fruit juice which swiftly replaced Greg's bottle of Coke on his desk.

"Your diet is appalling, Lestrade. It's a wonder your brain functions at all with all the fat and cholesterol being pumped round it in your overly caffeinated bloodstream."

"Yeah well, not all of us can live for days on end on nothing but nicotine patches and adrenaline."

Sherlock ignored him. He came round to Greg 's side of the desk and grabbed his wrist.

"What the--?"

"Sit still."

"Are you taking my _pulse_?"

Sherlock frowned. "When did you last take a vacation?"

"What?"

"And I don't mean those two days in the Spring when you came with me to Suffolk."

"Sherlock, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"Yeah, I thought I might find you here." John Watson appeared at Greg's door. He looked a little red-faced and was breathing heavily. "Sorry, Greg. Took me a minute to work out where he'd dashed off to."

"John, his resting pulse is nearly 80 - that's completely unacceptable, wouldn't you agree?"

Greg snatched his arm away from Sherlock and stood up. "My resting pulse is _fine_ , you tit - it just shoots up when people come haring into my office and steal my lunch."

"I replaced it with a much healthier alternative."

"Not the point, Sherlock."

"Sherlock, " John interrupted. "Could you maybe give us a minute? Go get Greg a glass of water or something?"

"He does need to maintain proper levels of hydration…"

"Yeah, great - and take your time." John practically pushed Sherlock out of the door and closed it firmly behind him.

"Going to tell me what's brought this on, then?" Greg sat back and folded his arms.

John dropped into the seat opposite him. "We went to follow up with Perkins this morning, from the Shoreditch smuggling thing?"

"And?"

"And Sherlock was right - he was behind the whole thing."

"So where is he? How come you didn't call me for the arrest?"

"Perkins tried to make a dash for it and we chased after him. He'd barely gone twenty feet before he keeled over - massive heart attack."

"Jesus…"

"We gave him CPR until the ambulance got there but they declared him dead shortly after he got to the hospital."

"Christ, John. That must have been awful."

"I'd forgotten how bloody tiring it is, even swapping in and out with Sherlock every few minutes. Anyway, as soon as they came out and told us he didn't make it, Sherlock went very quiet and then took off."

"To come here and bin my lunch?"

"Colin Perkins was 48, Greg," John said, quietly.

Sherlock chose that moment to bang back into the room with a pint glass full of water which he put on the desk next to the fruit juice. "Here. You should have this and at least another one before 5 o'clock."

Greg stared at it for a minute before he stood up and walked round to the front of his desk. He put his hands on either side of Sherlock's face.

"I love you too, you daft sod. I promise I'll try and take better care of myself."

"And you really should--"

Greg leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

"I'll put in for some time off next month, I promise. Come with me?"

Sherlock nodded and returned the kiss.

John left them to it, quietly shutting the door behind him...


End file.
